


I Hate You

by DECEIVEDMADPAIN



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #JustFuckMeUp, Anal Sex, Bottom Hannibal, Hate Sex, Knifeplay, Love/Hate, M/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, POV Will Graham, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking, Top Will, s02e08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7160447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DECEIVEDMADPAIN/pseuds/DECEIVEDMADPAIN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is found not-guilty for the crimes that he knows Hannibal has done. He is conflicted and needs to settle what he wants to do next, so he visits Hannibal to resume his therapy.<br/>This work is told from Will's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate You

Today is the day I am going to visit Doctor Lecter again. As his patient, but not as his friend.

This time I know what he is, and he knows that I know what he is. This will be different.

What will I do exactly? How can I manifest this hate towards him into a civilized manner without rushing at his throat with my bare hands as soon as he opens the door?

A man so savage and beastly, a creature I've never seen or heard about before. Dressed in fine clothes, a master chef, psychiatrist, doctor, genius manifested. And his manners, so fancy and annoying. What is he like when he kills? And this... this creature has taken an interest in me. How wrong I was to perceive him uninteresting.

How long will he pretend and keep playing with me? I want him caught, humiliated, defeated. Do I pretend too? Do I say I was wrong, or do I pretend to be his friend after knowing what he is, and what he has done to me?

I've been blind for too long, and now I see everything. Everything except what his intentions towards me are... It's obvious that I'm his favorite plaything, as of now, but so many things are unclear.

I will never be free from his game, and he will never be free of me.

I sigh. 

 

I take a shower, I wash myself clean. I shave my body, I don't know why.

I walk over to the mirror. My hair is always so messy. I dry it with hairdryer, I haven't done that for so long... and I don't know why.

I comb it to the side, I like it.

My cologne is cheap, I rarely wear it, but I do now.

I don't know why.

 

My heart thumps fast as I approach his door, I play with the small pocket-knife I have in my trousers. I turn my back to the door as I wait for the answer, It opens. There he stands, tall and proud. Oh, to punch him in the face until he no longer looks so handsome. He seems surprised and pleased, but you can never know what he really feels. To think that I trusted him once..

His office, even though it looks the same and smells the same, now stinks of truth and contempt, and his striped curtains now look dull and annoying and I want to rip them down... But they are the same and the smell is same too and why do I feel this way?

I sit in his chair and I hate being here but there's also nowhere else in this world I'd rather be.

He has kept our standing appointment open. He was expecting me. Good.

 

He smiles at me, and once that smile would seem earnest and kind to me but now it looks so sinister and evil as I know it is and it pleases me, I smile back. We start talking. So many new subjects to tread, so many things to talk about, yet too few. I am honest with him, I never lie to him about what I feel. He lies to me and at least now I know that he is lying, and even though his riddles and side approaches have always been bugging my head now they are interesting to solve.

Halfway through our conversation he gets up and walks over to his table, and I start roaming the room. I'm in a room with a monster, I didn't realize that up until now. And that monster is disguised as a kind, intellectual psychiatrist.

I look at his back. I hate him so much, yet he looks so innocent, I suddenly feel guilt for hating him even though I have every right to. He looks back at me and notices me staring.

Fuck, I blew it.

"Is anything wrong, Will? " He asks, as though concerned. "If there is something I can-"

"No." I interrupt. "I was just wondering, Doctor Lecter..."

"Hmm?" He tilts his head to the side like a dog, damn him.

"How do you really feel towards me?" I put my hands in my pockets. "I know you enjoy this... game, but, what do you really want from this relationship?"

He lowers his eyes, averting them. That's new.

"You are my dear friend, Will. I care about you deeply." He looks up at me. "I want the same from you, rightfully. Even if you doubt me now. I can help you get through this."

"I don't need your help." I sound ruder than I intend to. "Look, Hannibal. You might be pretending, you can. But I don't have to. So I'm not going to pretend being your friend."

Hannibal doesn't take off his eyes from me, he starts walking over. I stop in the middle of the room.

"Then why did you come here, Will?" He stops in front of me, facing me, trying to corner me.

He can dream about me backing up, I won't.

"Because you are damn interesting." I reply, now I'm just spiteful. "And because I fucking hate you." I add.

Unexpected to me, he smirks, that looks sinister for real, like I had only seen in my imagination.

"Usually people prefer to stay away from the ones they hate…" He takes a step closer, now he's uncomfortably close, trespassing my personal space.

What is he doing? Is he going to attack me? Kill me now, here?

But that would be so dull and... boring. After everything he did, and after freeing me from the trap he set up for me in the first place.

"Not me, Dr. Lecter." I smirk too and wait for the worst.

And the worst happens, he grabs my hair and pulls me in roughly, and before I try to fight back he locks his lips on mine. A gush of hot heat hits my head from my groin and I almost fall to my knees.

What the fuck? Why this? Out of all the things we could agree on, why this?

I kiss back, I know this is what I want. I received the answer to my question. The adrenaline takes my thinking ability away for a moment. I slide my hands in his hair and mess it up, I want to mess up everything he so tastefully deceives the whole world with. I keep saying I am all honest and shit but honestly, I am not even honest to myself. His lips are so soft and tasty and his fingers pull my hair painfully and oh my god I am kissing a serial killer, a fucking CANNIBAL.

He slides his tongue in my mouth and I feel dirty and molested, just by that.

I push him back.

His tie is messy, his hair is messy and he breathes heavily. He doesn't take his eyes off from me and for the first time I see hunger in him, I see the animal I know he is. I know I'm not crazy to hate him, to want him framed behind a cage.

And what are those damn antlers doing there in the back, why is everything so black?

He emanates such darkness and suddenly I can't see anything but him. He looks like a wild animal standing in a fighting stance, ready to attack.

I won't let him. I'm the predator here.

I grab his sweater and pull him around. I push him hard. He stumbles and falls heavily on the couch in the middle of the room, holding himself up on his elbows, his legs spread out.

What a fucking sight.

I see a spark of redness in his eyes, or maybe it's my imagination, but I take that as a threat. He groans angrily, I rush at him, I push him further down with my weight and I kiss him with all the ferocious hate I have towards him. He kisses me back eagerly, our lips move together with such unspoken correspondence that I feel angry for this perfect pace we so naturally found, and I realize that I've never kissed someone so good and it hurts because the best kiss in my life is caused by my hatred. I try to be imperfect and messy but he follows me like a dull, creeping ache and I just can't take it anymore. He parts his lips and I barge in, I can taste his mouth, I run my tongue across his teeth and I want to shatter them. His tongue rolls around mine and something spins in my head too and I feel pain in my crotch.

I pull away to take a breath and I see a string of saliva stretched from my mouth to his.

I want him.

I’ve lost my mind completely, what am I doing?

My hands move instinctively down his stomach and I pull his sweater up over his head, he raises his arms obeyingly and seeing him like that makes my crotch hurt even more.

“I hate you…” I whisper to him, he has to know that, remember that. My actions should not deceive him for I have no control over what I do now. “I hate you…” I unbutton his shirt and -fuck, he has greyish hair on his chest. I run my hand in it, up to his neck. I grab it hard, clenching my fingers in his skin. He gasps for air, I choke him harder. Thick veins reveal themselves on his throat and I want to suck the blood out of him. I could kill him now.

 I rest my crotch between his legs and I feel it there, his cock, stiff as a pillar. Why is he so willing?

Damn.

I let go and slide down to my knees, he takes a deep breath. I unzip his pants. I can’t wait to have him in my throat. To see him undone, I want to hear how he breaks.

His pants drop down to the floor, but that’s not enough. I remove them and toss them aside roughly. I kiss his cock through his underwear and it stains with my saliva and his precum. It’s so hard.

What am I doing?! He’s a fucking demon, dammit!

I feel his hand sliding through my hair, urging me to press my lips harder and then he moans. And that moan has a trembling, begging need in it that it rings in my ears so fucking hard I immediately slide my hand down to my pants and release my aching cock and I jerk it, and fuck, it feels so good. I close my eyes, I can hear how he removes his underwear, then his penis presses on my lips and I take it in, and while he enters I feel how his restraint and self-control hangs on the edge. I can taste him, I move my head on his cock and it fills my mouth entirely. I’ve never sucked a dick before and I gag. I don’t care, I take it in deeper and he puts his hand on my cheek, and… His hands are shaking.

I open my eyes and look in his. He is all reduced to desire, his mouth is partly open and I realize that now he depends on all that I will do to him, like I was, when he put me in that cage to play with me.

This fucker has wanted to get in my pants all along. I don’t know what makes me angrier-  the fact that’s he’s a lying, manipulating, sick, twisted serial killer who cooks and eats his victims, or the fact that he is devilishly attractive and I want to fuck the brains out of this son of a bitch.

I know I am not well, my brain… It’s fucked up. But to this extent? Should I hate myself too?

I suck him deep and think about all the terrible things he has done, all the people he has caused pain to. I imagine him covered in blood, dismembering them, his face all emotionless, not like now. Why does that make me hornier?

Fuck.

I pull him out and make him spread his legs wider with my hands… I slide my tongue down to his balls, then his perineum. He whimpers.

“Will…” He says my name in such a manner that I feel like we’re in a damn porn movie. I keep licking his perineum, not moving downward.

“Aahh! Will…” He throws his head back and that’s when I realize he’s begging.

I hate him, I fucking hate him. I kiss his entrance, I lick it with all the hate I have to him. I roll my tongue around the muscle like no tomorrow and he moans and moans and I suddenly want to see it all from another angle like a movie, all the damn angles in which I can see him breaking down for me. I push my tongue in the middle, the muscle softens. I push harder and I can taste the inside. What a fucking whore, opening up so easy like that. I fuck him with my tongue, each time going deeper, finally as far as I can reach. His moans sound like he’s crying.

And I feel warm lines on my cheeks… Why the fuck am I crying too?

I don’t care about my intentions anymore, I just want to pleasure myself with that fucking heat inside of him. I pull my tongue out and spit on his anus, I spit three- maybe four times.

I rise up and hit his ass. He moans and bites his lip. I hit him harder, the slap makes a loud noise, his ass turns red.

“Turn around. Get on your knees.” I order him. He hesitates and nibbles on his lower lip, breathing hard. I still can’t believe I’m seeing him like this. I slap him harder, so hard that my palm goes numb. The slap makes him bite down on his lip, I see it bleeding.

He obeys. He turns around and stands on his knees and arms, I get up and position myself behind him.

I push his head down, making him arch his back. His cheek presses against the couch. His left ass-cheek is red.

“I wish you could see yourself.” I tell him spitefully. “All spread out to me, ready for me to fuck you.” I slap his ass again, he bites his fingers to muffle a whimper.

“Or I could just kill you and leave you dead in this ridiculous position.” I hit him again and reach down into my pocket. I am sure he felt the knife before.

I open the knife. He closes his eyes. I put the knife’s tip on his spine-line and run it downwards gently. He shivers.

“I will ask you a question, Doctor Lecter.” I make a quick, small cut on his left ass-cheek. He doesn’t react to the pain. “What do you want me to do – Fuck you, or kill you?”

My saliva drips down to his thighs and my cock twitches and I know the answer I want to hear.

“Will…” His voice is soft. He doesn’t open his eyes.

I rest my cock on his entrance and await his answer.

“Will... Will…” He jerks himself towards my cock. I move away.

“Say it.” I watch how blood slowly rolls down from his wound.

“Fuck me, Will.” He says and that somehow unknowingly wakes a beast inside of me.

I throw away the knife and grab his ass. I press my cock to his entrance. I’m not gentle, I get through the ring of muscle slowly and he moans loudly.

“Fuuuuck! Fuuck!” He groans and I can hear pain in his voice, and suddenly the little part of the Will I have left from years ago feels sorry for him, but his curses don’t calm the animal awoken even a bit. I push in deeper and I keep going until I am fully inside.

Damn, I could get lost in this heat. His insides twitch and close around my cock and I feel like I’m on drugs. I don’t wait for him, I don’t care. I say to myself that I hate this creature and I just want to please myself and I start moving. There’s no damn lubrication and my cock hurts. I won’t even try to imagine what he feels. He deserves worse.

I start thrusting in him and it hurts unbearably more. “Fucking shit!” I curse and pull myself out. I spit on my cock and my hand and ram my wet fingers inside of him. I notice tears glimmering on his cheeks in the dim office lights. I don’t care, I don’t care at all.

I pull inside again and this time the slide is easier. He shifts his head to the other side and arches his back more. He’s telling me to fuck him, and I give him what he wants. I start slowly and the sight of my cock entering and leaving his ass is the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen, and fuck, I haven’t had sex for so long. I go faster. Our bodies slam and smack, I’m loving that dirty sound. He starts enjoying it too, his groans turn into whimpers and then into shameless moans.

“Aaah! Aaahh! Fuck! Harder, please, please!” Hannibal begs for more and I can’t help but give it to him and before I feel that my hate towards him is turning into something entirely different I grab him by his hair and fuck him like I have never fucked anyone before.

I feel how close I am to bursting. He starts jerking himself off as I pound in him. I feel his muscles tighten around my cock and I pull him harder by his hair, I bring him up close to me and dive in his neck, I smell him as I fuck him and I try to remember how he sounds, how he moves willingly on my dick and I am amazed for I have never ever felt so much pleasure with a woman before.

He reaches orgasm before me and I see how he cums, I see him breaking down and I follow him. It feels too good for something so bad, I moan too. He turns his head to kiss me and I can’t deny him that. We kiss as deeply as our angle allows us to. I imagine what it would be like to love him, I realize that’s what my nature calls me to, that’s why I fucked him for I could not find another way to sedate my feelings. But it’s there and the hatred is also there, equally caused by his existence in my life and by him bringing out the worst in me. And my hatred is stronger than anything I feel towards him and it’s not just a mere, normal hatred. It’s a hatred mixed with love and for that it’s the worst kind and I will never succumb to that.

I pull out of him. My clothes are wet from my sweat. He doesn’t turn around. I start searching for my knife and coat. We don’t say a word.

Tomorrow I’ll see Jack and tell him everything. He will understand me, I can catch Hannibal now.

He starts collecting his clothes and I avert my eyes from his nakedness. I put my coat on and place the knife in my pocket. I head towards the door, hoping he says anything.

He doesn’t.

I stop and without turning around I say: “’Till the next session, Doctor Lecter.”

I leave. I can’t see it but I know that he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm late to the #JustFuckMeUp fest but better late than never!  
> find me on tumblr: http://monah-do-dovah.tumblr.com/


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